


All you have is your fire

by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once



Series: Dragons fly out in the sun, you know what I mean [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Angst, Autistic Zuko (Avatar), Azula (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula deserves better, Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Child Abuse, Curses, Dragon Zuko (Avatar), Dragons, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Growing Up, He just sucks, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), I just love sword fighting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In a way, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Iroh (Avatar) loves Tea, Is this just a metaphor for the issues I'm going through?, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Or She Tries to be, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Piandao is a king, Pre-Canon, She's like 8 and doing her best, She's the product of abuse too!!, Swords, Tags Are Hard, Trauma, Turtleduck(s), Ursa (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Ursa does her best, You have no proof, Zuko (Avatar) Needs Therapy, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko and her have an actual relationship, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Childhood (Avatar), Zuko's Scar (Avatar), but it's there!, its not always a good one, ozai sucks, somewhat?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26853172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once/pseuds/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once
Summary: Zuko knew monsters. The ones that hide under your bed and sneak out in the middle of the night. They type that live in stories parents tell their children to make sure they listen. The kind with fists full of fire aimed at you.Zuko knew monsters.He was one after all....My take on Dragon!Zuko starting from his childhood where he learned the meaning of the term monster and how exactly that applied to him
Relationships: Azula & Ozai (Avatar), Azula & Ursa & Zuko (Avatar), Azula & Ursa (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Lu Ten & Zuko, Ozai & Zuko (Avatar), Ozai/Ursa (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Dragons fly out in the sun, you know what I mean [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958911
Comments: 35
Kudos: 191





	1. Fingers covered in thorns

**Author's Note:**

> Do you guys know the pain of thinking of a really good summary or something and writing it down but then you accidentally delete it and forget the proper wording? Yeah that's what happened with this story lol. 
> 
> Anyways! I hope you guys enjoy, this is just a little prologue setting up the story. I've seen some Dragon!Zuko stories and I just wanted to put my spin on it :) This story is based around Zuko's childhood and relationship with the people in his family, but the Gaang will eventually join them too! Just later on in this series

Ursa looks down at her first son and loves him more than anything in the world. 

She thinks that maybe he is the first person she has ever loved. Her parents were indifferent to her and she felt the same, she never had any close friends growing up, and she certainly doesn’t love Ozai. Not in the way a wife should. 

but looking down at her son, her Zuko, she loved him with her entire heart. 

He was a small thing, born in the dead of night with none of Angi’s light shining down on him. He was frail and weak and for a second she didn’t think he would survive. But he was here, lying in her arms, peacefully sleeping as the last maids leave the room. 

Her heart is still pounding from the confrontation of her husband, who had tried to take Zuko from her arms and toss him into the fireplace. He snarled that he didn’t hold the spark of a firebender, that he was already a disgrace, but Ursa didn’t care. She was his mother, that was all that mattered. 

Motherhood was a thing she always knew she would have to go through. Ever since she was five and her parents first arranged the marriage to Fire Lord Azulon’s son. She knew her place in the world, and she always thought of being a mother as another duty, another thing she would do simply because it was expected of her. 

But this boy she held in her arms changed all that. She understood now what other women had said about being a Mother. It really does change you. Ursa created this human, this small fragile human being. She had carried him and birthed him and she would love him unconditionally, no matter what happened to either of them.

Ursa rocks her child back and forth and decides to do what her ancestors were unable to, love her child enough to die for him. 

Ursa smooths a finger over Zuko’s cheek, raveling in how soft and warm his skin was. She lets out a breath, thinking back to when Zuko first came out of her, silent and still. She had begged Angi to save him, to give him life, and here he was, healthy and alive. She had Angi to thank for that blessing, for that she was sure. 

Angi may have blessed him enough to survive, but a bitter part of her thinks that the Spirits have cursed her son to be born at the worst time, that maybe Zuko wasn’t supposed to survive. She hopes Angi didn’t save her son just so that he would suffer. 

Ursa knew suffering, that was for sure. And she knew the price her bloodline had to pay, the suffering they had been dealing with for centuries now. She looked down at her soon and prayed to the Spirits once again, begging them to spare her child from this curse, from the suffering that would undoubtedly come from it. 

There was a very easy way to test if Zuko was to suffer like the others in her family. 

She told herself she wouldn’t be bitter, that she would hope that having Roku’s blood in her veins would help dilute the curse. If the Spirit’s own blessed was her grandfather, then surely the spirits would take pity on her son. They would honor Roku’s blood and finally rid their bloodline of the ailment they had suffered through. She prayed that her son would be safe from the fear and mockery that had befallen her ancestors. 

She thinks of her father. Flashes of claws and fangs snarled in the firelight, anger coursing through his eyes as he hissed at her. Horns curling through his hair and rage living in his chest, too sharp words flung around as he screamed and yelled and left deep gashes in their walls. Ursa closed her eyes and prayed to Spirits that had rarely ever answered her before.

Ursa rocked her child back and forth, shushing him gently although he hadn’t made a sound. He was a quiet child, sleeping peacefully against her chest. As much as she hated it, she needed to know. 

The Spirit’s were never forgiving of her, and now her son pays the price.

She lights a single finger on fire, and presses it to her son’s soft skin.


	2. I wanna be ten feet tall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing POV's from kids is hard, but hopefully you guys like it!!
> 
> Warning for slight body horror.

Zuko is four years old and he thinks he’s already grown enough. Mother said he’s already big for his age, and he’s a lot taller than Azula even though she’s only a year younger than her. She still totters around on unsteady feet while he is able to walk steadily beside Mother. 

She’s taking him to see the turtleducks again. Zuko thinks that they might be his favorite part of the entire palace. Mother takes him there every other day, along with a bag filled with break and grains for him to toss in. Last week, one of the pregnant ducks even came close enough for him to pet it. 

“Look Zuko,” Mother says quietly. She’s always quiet, not like Azula who speaks in loud squeaky tones, or Father who always yells. Mother is always quiet and calm, Zuko likes it. “She had her babies.”

Sure enough, when Zuko looked over at the small area of bushes, there were close to ten little baby turtleducks huddled around each other, their shells still shiny from a recent dip in the water and their little eyes only just cracked open. 

Zuko grins, a jolt of happiness sparking through him as he looks at the tiny animals. He’s been waiting for months for her to give birth, so excited to see the small little animals. If he listened close enough he could hear their soft quacks. 

He claps his hands excitedly, feeling the skin at the back of his neck and the edges of his hand tingle with warmth. He blinks his suddenly watering eyes as the world comes into sharper focus and he grins happily at his Mother, a sense of warmth spreading through him as he hummed with joy. His mother’s smile dipped down, dissolving quickly. 

“Zuko,” She says, still soft but firm now, almost disappointed. He hates disappointing her. His own smile falls. “Your scales are showing, as well as your eyes.” 

Zuko frowned, looking down at his hand, and sure enough, dark red scales peppered his skin, shining in the sunlight. He didn’t quite understand why his Mom hated his scales, but he knew that he wasn’t supposed to show them. Same with his eyes. Or any other part of him for that matter. Mother told him that no one else can slit their eyes like him, and the bright shining gold color was impossible for anyone else to have. He thinks it’s a shame, he’s seen his eyes when they get like this and they’re as pretty as the gold headpieces that Mother wears. 

“Deep breaths,” Mother says firmly, grabbing his hand and gently running her fingers over the hardened skin. He shivers slightly at the contact. It feels weird sometimes, how only some of his skin forms into scales when he’s happy. The difference between them and the skin was drastic, but somehow both felt natural to him. 

Zuko closed his eyes, focusing on the lessons Mother had been teaching him ever since he can remember. 

Deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Visualize the features disappearing, isolate the emotion bringing them forwards and snap the connection between his two physical forms. It isn’t easy, searching deep inside him to find that connection and it almost hurts to sever it, but he’s been getting better, and when he opens his eyes the scales are gone, the world is less focused, and his mother is smiling again. He likes it when she smiles, it’s a lot better than when she frowns. 

“You’re improving so much darling,” She says, squeezing his hands and he beams at her, focusing hard on suppressing the urge to clap his hands and let the familiar scales crawl back over his skin. “You know how important it is to keep those things from happening don’t you?” 

“Because no one is allowed to know,” He nods solemnly, remembering the multiple times his Mother had drilled that lesson through his head. 

“That’s right,” She smiled, patting his cheek. “It’s alright to be happy Zuko, but showing things like that around anyone else is dangerous. You cannot show anyone that you aren’t human, understand?”

Zuko frowns down at the ground, crossing his arms and rocking slightly. He hates it when Mother talks like that, using words like “Inhuman” and “Monster”.

Monsters are creatures that hide in the dark and scare children, they steal your face and claw at your skin, sending chunks of rock and water at you until you either surrendered or died. Zuko was not a monster. He was just different. 

Mother told him that sometimes that meant the same thing. 

“I know,” He finally mumbles, and Mother leans over and pulls him closer the two of them looking down at the pond. 

“I don’t mean to be so hard on you,” Mother sighs, running her fingers through his hair. “But no one else can know Zuko. Not everyone will understand as I do. The world is not kind to those it sees as different, and you were born as different as you could be. As long as you are alone or with me, you can show yourself however you want, but otherwise, it’s safer to stay hidden, to never let people know what you are.” 

“But I don’t like it,” Zuko says, biting his lip. Mother always tells him not to pout, but stopping his other self from escaping is hard! It hurts sometimes too, to push it down and cut the strings connecting them. It’s too much effort and it’s exhausting and Zuko hates it. He just wants to be free.

“I know you don’t, but it has to be done,” Mother says firmly, and he wilts a bit, shrinking at her tone of voice. The fingers keep running through his hair. “You know I love you Zuko, and I want the best for you. So you are not allowed to transform in public. Am I being clear?”

“Yeah,” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around himself and going back to rocking. It helps the pressure in his chest. “When can we tell Father?”

Father yells a lot and never smiles like Mother does, and he always looks disappointed when Zuko can’t firebend. Which is why he should know about the other side of him, because whenever Zuko transforms he can firebend. It comes as easily as breathing in that form, even if it isn’t done exactly how it’s supposed to be. That shouldn’t matter right? Fire is fire, and Zuko wants to be strong and powerful like Father was. 

“Never,” Mother says firmly, and he’s surprised at the intensity in her voice. He rocks harder. “Your Father cannot know of this Zuko. This is a special secret between the two of us, understood?”

He nods, a sinking feeling in his chest. He just wants Father to be proud of him. Zuko thinks that if he knows he will be. But Mother said not to tell, and Zuko trusted her. Besides, he likes the idea of having a secret between just the two of them. He still doesn’t understand why he can’t tell Father, but he knows that some things aren’t for kids to understand. 

His approval makes Mother smile though, so he knows it was the right decision to make. He likes it when she smiles, and likes it even more when he’s the one to cause that smile. It’s the same with Azula, he loves dangling objects and toys in front of her and making her laugh. She has Mother’s smile.

“Have you been doing your practicing lately?” Mother asks, smiling warmly at him and he perks up. This is something he knows; this is something good. 

“Yeah!” He says cheerfully, sticking out his hand in front of him. He frowns in concentration, focusing on his breathing as he digs down inside of himself, tensing his hand slightly and pushing at that bundled up piece of _something_ that sits deep inside him, lurking inside his chest. His knuckles grow warm and he bites his lip and winces as he feels his fingers crack and grow, nails sharpening into talons and scales blossoming across his fingers. 

He stops, grinning up at Mother who nods in approval. He hums slightly, the pain fading away and he’s left with the pleasant hum filling his body as he displays his hands. 

“Very good,” Mother praises. “Now change back.” 

Zuko nods, quickly relaxing his breathing and finding that connection. It’s always easier to do when the transformation was intentional, the connection easy to find. Within seconds the pain was back and his fingers were shrinking, scales slipping back into skin until his normal hand was back. 

“You’re improving so much darling,” Mother says with a blinding smile and Zuko claps his hands together in pride. The back of his neck heats up but he ignores it. As long as they are hidden by his robe then he should be fine. Was it breaking the rule? A little, but Zuko didn’t want to focus hard enough to smooth the skin over again. 

“I practice every day,” He tells her proudly. She had stressed the importance of practicing his restraint, and he wanted to make her proud. 

“Good boy,” She reaches out and ruffles his hair. “Remember to only ever practice at night in the dark and never fully transform without me in the room. I know it makes you sleepy sometimes to work at night, but this is very important, and it makes me very happy to see how you’ve improved.”

He hums in agreement, leaning into her side and watching the turtleducks again. 

Mother absolutely forbids him to change without her. He doesn’t understand it, and sometimes it makes him mad not to have that freedom, but mostly he can’t complain. Transforming _hurts_. Having her there to coach him through it helps, and being able to fly around and make her laugh makes him happy. He doesn’t change a lot, normally Mother makes him focus on one part, and even then it’s more about forcing it down than actually having it out. 

But she said everything has a purpose. The training and lessons were purposeful, her knowledge was purposeful, and he was purposeful. He wasn’t sure what that meant. But he likes to think of it as destiny. He’s heard stories of destiny, the Spirits that guide their way and pick and choose their heroes. Zuko likes the idea that he has a destiny painted out for him. 

“What’s the Turtleducks purpose?” He asks, staring down at the small creatures. Mother always told him everything in the world is there for a reason. Father scoffed at the time, calling her stupid and sedimental, but Zuko thought it was a nice idea. “Why do they get a pond here?” He never saw any Turtlecrabs here, and they were just as vital to the world as Turtleducks. 

“Mostly decoration,” Mother mused, reaching out a hand and running it through the water. He copies her, shivering slightly at the cool liquid. “Sometimes we use the meat for soups or dinners.”

“Ew!” Zuko protests, wrinkling his nose as Mother laughs. He looks at the swimming turtleducks, gently guiding through the water. How could they kill them? “Why would we do that? What have they ever done to us?” 

“Absolutely nothing,” Mother said, and she sounds too amused. Zuko feels oddly upset, he thinks of eating the closest turtleduck and feels sick. “They taste good, and they're convenient.” 

“I don’t like that answer,” Zuko whines, curling up and rocking again. He feels oddly sick and pulls on his hair, the rocking not really helping the pressure in his chest. He comes to see them every other day, and he feeds them and pets them and holds them. He doesn't want to eat them too. Tears prick the back of his eyes.

“And that just shows how good of a person you are,” Mother says gently, grabbing his hands and stopping them from pulling. He feels oddly frustrated without the action. “You need to keep that line of thinking my darling boy. Just because you can hurt something doesn’t mean you should. Everyone should remember that, but especially you. Some days in the future that might be hard to remember. Anger comes all too easy to people like you, and because of your other form you might feel animalistic urges that will be all to easy to give into. But you cannot let yourself. Your compassion and restraint will be your most important values.” 

That doesn’t sound very good. Mother is always talking about animalistic urges, feelings he can’t control. Zuko doesn’t like that, he likes being in control. 

“What kinds of feelings?” He asks. If he knows what to expect he can stop them right? That’s probably what Mother was trying to say. 

“Anger mostly,” Mother got a faraway look in her eyes, and she went quiet for a long moment before shaking herself out of it. “Intense protectiveness to any end, the urge of violence. Things like that. You are a predator Zuko, born to hunt and to hurt. But just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. You are to never hurt those who can’t protect themselves. Because that’s what makes you a monster, and you don’t want to be a monster do you?”

“No Mother,” Zuko shakes his head. Monsters were bad. Zuko doesn’t want to be like that. He wants to be kind like Mother. 

“Good boy,” She smiles again. “I know you can do it darling. Just promise me that you will never hurt anyone else.” 

“Why would I ever want to do that Mother?” Zuko asked, tilting his head to the side. He images hurting her, or father, or the servant who brought him food. The image refuses to come to mind. They’ve never wronged him, and Mother said hurting people is bad. 

“I hope you never do,” She says instead of responding. 

Zuko doesn’t really understand her, but he thinks that might be fine. 

He turns and looks back at the Turtleduck babies and decides to think more about this conversation later. Right now he just wants to sit and enjoy the moment. The scales trickle down his spine and he smiles, letting himself sigh at the warmth they bring him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ursa is doing her best, even if it's not really that good lol. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as we move into more of the plot stuff and get more into Zuko's abilities and how they change things for him :)


	3. I wanna grow big red horns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!!

His mother continues his lessons over the months. As he grows older, they get harder and more often. It was the one thing Zuko was never able to sweet talk his way out of. He could persuade her to give him more treats, to read him another story at night, but never to skip any lessons or practices, no matter how exhausted he was. 

He has actual tutors now, who come and teach him about history and try to get him to bend fire. He isn’t very good at it. None of them are as good of a teacher than Mother is, they’re all impatient and loud and won’t let him fidget or rock even if it helps him concentrate better. His hands hurt from the number of times they have to smack or burn him due to breaking some sort of rules. Zuko hates it with a passion. 

Lessons with Mother are slightly better. They’ve gotten more intense now that he has other schooling, Mother claiming that he needs better control now that other people see him more. 

Zuko is starting to think that his mother wasn’t lying when he said no one was like him. Before all he knew were his family and the servant. Which was almost a grand total of ten people. The idea that he was the only one with this problem, the only person in the world with the ability to change as he did, it seemed a bit stupid. Why would only he be able to do it? He wasn’t anyone special. 

Or well, he was, being part of the royal family, but that was special for a different reason. But now that he’s met more people, seen what normal people are like, maybe he is just too different. 

“Are you ready darling?” Mother says, walking into his room and softly closing the door. It was almost time for bed, which meant it was time for lessons, or storytelling if Father asked. Not that it wasn’t storytelling half the time. 

“Of course,” Zuko said, sitting up in bed. “What are we doing?” 

The lessons often varied in activities. Sometimes Mother would tell him to transform specific parts and they would work on the quickest ways to get rid of them. But that was rare these days, since Mother didn’t want him transforming that much. 

More likely, she would tell him a story. Sometimes those stories would be of great heroes, people how have slayed the dragons, who have traveled near and far to help those who needed it, heroes who saved the days. Zuko liked those stories. If only he could just listen to them. 

Instead, his job was to monitor his emotions. Happiness was probably the hardest thing for him to control. He could feel it and sense when the lines between his two forms started blurring, but sometimes he couldn’t shove it down, no matter how hard it was. 

He would hear stories of the heroes winning, bringing back peace and honor to the world and he would grin, scales peppering his skin before he could even stop them. Mother told him a lot of the happier stories, since he was so bad at it. 

But sometimes the stories weren’t good. Instead of stories of victory and joy, she would tell him of suffering and misery. Good people getting unjustly killed, people abusing their power and hurting those under them, stories of murder and rape, and other horrors. 

Zuko hated those stories. He couldn’t help the surging feeling of anger and injustice, it burned so quick past him and fueled his inner fire, and sometimes he was so sure he would finally firebend after hearing some of them. But instead his teeth would sharpen and his claws would grow and Mother would shake her head in disappointment. 

It was easier to control sometimes, since most of the feelings stayed inside, the lines between his forms almost sharpening instead of blurring like when he was happy. Mother seemed happy with that, and thankfully she didn’t tell him that many bad stories. 

But the stories were always there, especially late at night as he stared into the darkness and wondered if he was ever going to become a monster like the ones she told him about. 

“I thought we could do a simple practice of control today,” Mother said, sitting on the bed beside him. “Show me your horns.”

Zuko grinned, shutting his eyes and searching deep into himself, finding the line between his two forms and pushing past it, feeling the skin on his head split. He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain hit, the bones inside of him cracking and growing until they formed the small horns that poked out from the top of his head. 

“Very good,” Mother said, reaching out and gently soothing a finger down them. “Put them away.”

Zuko snapped the connection quickly, wincing slightly as he felt the bone reform. He thinks he’s getting used to it now. 

“Tell me about your lessons today,” Mother prompts him. “I heard you got in some trouble today.” 

Zuko’s good mood fell as he stared down at his hands, fiddling slightly. 

“Mrs. Wong said that I need to learn how to memorize better,” Zuko grumbled. “She said that going at the pace I was would ensure that I had the reading skills of a seven-year-old when I was twenty, and that someone as privileged as I was should pay more attention to her.” 

“And what did you do?” Mother said softly, and Zuko squirmed a little more. 

“I threw my book at her,” Zuko mumbled, cheeks staining red. He couldn’t help it. Mrs. Wong had stood there and berated him for almost an hour, calling him names and diminishing his importance. She implied that he was the weak link in his family, and that he should be ashamed to be the grandson of Sozin. The anger came out of nowhere, but he thinks he’s perfectly justified in his reaction. 

Anger was a weird feeling to him, and he had never felt it that intensely or that hard. It had burned through him, consuming every part of him as he stared at that woman. Anger came quickly, easily, and it hit him hard. Honestly, Zuko thinks she got away lightly with just the book at her face. 

His talons had grown a little, but he had curled his hand into a fist so she wouldn’t see and he got rid of it easily. So he doesn’t even understand why Mother would be upset with him. He controlled himself perfectly well. 

“Zuko,” Mother sighed, and he knew she wouldn’t see it the same way as him. “You know what I’ve told you about letting your anger consume you.” 

Zuko looks down, her disappointment coating the air like water. He almost chokes on it. 

“It’s dangerous and I can’t let it happen,” He sighs, refusing to look up at her. 

“I’ve told you over and over again how easily anger comes to you. That you will feel it and that no matter what you do it will come. That anger is a part of you, ingrained in your DNA. You cannot let it consume you, you must refuse to give in to it, to act on it,” Mother sighs, reaching out and touching his hand. He almost pulls away but managed to bite down the response, even if the touch feels bad and wrong in a way he hates. 

“I know,” He whispers, because she won’t stop telling him that. Every night she lectures him on it, telling him about how it will consume him if he lets it, how he will be a monster just like the ones she tells him about in the stories. “Am I a monster?” 

“Of course not,” Mother says immediately. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you keep saying that I’m always going to be angry and I’ll hurt people just like the people in your stories,” He says, his voice rising slightly. “I don’t want to be like them. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” Mother soothes. “That’s why you’re not a monster. You are the kindest little boy I know.” 

“That makes no sense,” Zuko keens, pulling on his hair. He hates when his lessons get confusing like this. He hates when she talks about him as if he’s a ticking time bomb. 

“My father was like you,” She tells him, and he stops, looking up at her in surprise. She’s never told him about people like him. “He let the anger consume him.” 

“What did he do?” Zuko asks, even as he knows he won’t like the answer. 

“He turned into a monster,” Ursa smiled gently. “That’s why I push you so hard on this, because I know you’re a good person Zuko. But I’ve seen good people go bad, and I couldn’t stand seeing you fall as he did.” 

Zuko stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. 

“That’s not the only reason we have these lessons,” Mother continues, her voice still soft. Sometimes he hates it, how she refuses to get mad, to show any emotions other than a polite smile or a tilt of disappointment. He wonders how she looks mad, as mad as he was earlier that day. He's a bit glad he’ll never find out. 

“The world is not a good place,” Mother tells him. “People out there don’t like what doesn’t belong. There is a certain way things work, and if you don’t adhere to those rules than bad things happen. And Zuko, my darling, you’re as different as they come. If I don’t teach you this, then you will never be able to fully be the person you’re destined to be. Do you understand?” 

“Yes Mother,” Zuko replied automatically. He feels his hands curl as scales creep across the back of his neck and his arms. He pushes them away, an uncomfortable feeling creeping along his bones. 

He can feel his other form begging to be released, reacting to the swirling feelings in his gut. 

He’s just so tired. Tired of having to learn how to be normal, tired of being scared of turning into something he doesn’t want to be, tired of not understanding what’s going on, tired of Mother telling him things he doesn’t want to hear. 

The scales want to crawl along his skin, almost like they wanted to protect him from the feelings bursting from his chest. He pushes them down, because if Mother sees them she’s be disappointed and he already feels like crying. 

The familiar itching feeling breaks out on his skin like it always does when he pushes his other form down. It’s like he’s fighting a battle with himself, clawing and fighting and scraping out his own insides. His skin heats up like it’s too tight for his body and everything becomes too much. He wants to rock and pull at his hair and scream but he can’t. 

Instead he sits there in silence and breaths, pretending like every inch of him isn’t aching with the need to change and let his other form take over, to let it break through and just stop feeling like this. 

“Zuko?” Mother asks gently and he looks up at her, taking a steadying breath despite the panic racing through him. “Are you okay?”

“Can I go to bed?” He finds himself asking. “I’m really tired.”

“Okay darling,” Mother says, smiling gently and leaning forwards to press a kiss to his forehead. It burns like fire. “Goodnight.”

“Night Mother,” He says, and holds his breath until she walks out. 

Once she’s gone he buries his head in his hands, tugging on his hair for any type of release as he rocks. HE refuses to give in, to let this unnatural side of him burst through just because he’s feeling a bit frustrated. If he does he’ll never be able to stop. 

If he does he thinks he’ll never come back, and he’ll spend his days with scales coverings him and talons digging into the ground. He’ll spend his days a monster. 

No. He refuses to do that. He’ll sit here and focus and push it down even as it hurts because that’s what mother wants, that what she’s been training him to do. 

He’ll do this no matter what. He refuses to be what Mother fears he could. 

_______________________________________

Father always said Zuko was weak. Maybe he was right. 

For the past week Zuko has been beyond restless. His focus in school has been shot, paying more attention to suppressing his other form than his schoolwork. His tutors were often cross at him, yelling at him for his distracted nature and landing him in trouble quite a few times. 

He doesn’t mind that much, even as his wrists ache and he has to physically bite back the overwhelming urge for scales to grow and teeth to sharpen. He thinks it’s a bit unfair, but he has to deal with it, knowing the punishment for revealing himself would be a million times worse than a few burned and sore wrists. 

Or at least that’s what Mother told him, and Mother never lies. 

Either way, the past few days have been horrible. He isn’t sure what happened, but his other form had been begging to be let out ever since that one dreadful lesson with Mother. Zuko had been trying to push it down, getting little to no sleep due to the constant crawling feeling under his skin. He hates it, but he has to try, because Mother told him to keep it under control and Zuko refused to let himself be bossed around by anything other than his own mind. 

But Zuko was weak. There was no question about that. 

He simply just couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to change, needing to feel the lines between human and dragon shift and blur until they were one and the same. He hasn’t felt this intense of a need in a very long time. He can’t remember the last time. 

So he waits until Mother leaves his room that night and sits in absolute silence until he’s sure that no one else is awake or near his room. 

It’s one of the biggest rules in his life that he doesn’t fully transform unless Mother is there. Once a year she would carve time out for him and let him transform, and Zuko would fly and twirl around the room while Mother sat there and laughed. He was forbidden to transform any other time. 

But his other form was endlessly important to him. It was a part of him as much as his arm or leg, and it had to be used or else it would become useless. It’s like a muscle that needs to be flexed or used. If he doesn’t he grows sore, his skin tight and uncomfortable, his emotions flying widely, and his other side practically aching. Small transformations help, and as long as he lets a little bit slip out every once in a while he is content. 

He needed to change. He knew that much. He wasn’t sure why he knew, but once he realized it seemed so blatantly obvious. 

Once he’s sure he’s alone he slips from bed and shakes out his arms and legs, his body thrumming with excitement. It tingled, like his other side was finally aware that he was going to change and he felt it almost purr in anticipation. 

Zuko grinned to himself, bracing himself as he got ready to change. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and dove into himself, finding that coiled cloud that rested inside his chest and grabbed it, tossing it out until he felt it grab a hold of every part of him. 

That’s when the pain started. He thinks he’ll never get used to it, the rush of pure genuine _pain_ as he begins his transformation. 

The entire process takes close to ten seconds normally, which seems to stretch on closer to a minute in his own mind. He feels the lines between his forms shifting, blurring, and blending into each other as he bites back a scream. 

He feels every single bone in his body crack at once, and just like that he’s falling. He never hits the ground, but in the moment he always thinks he will. He feels every single part of him breaking and growing, stretching and elongating, cracking into different pieces and reforming. Fragments of bone and skin shattering only to reform together, melting and molding into something new. 

His skin feels like it’s boiling alive, bubbling and dissolving as scales start to harden and form, running up every part of him and locking into place. It feels like being struck by lightning or getting burned alive, but at the same time it released something deep inside his chest, breaking open and freeing something that made him feel more alive than he ever has before. 

As quickly as it began, it ends. He feels his feet touch the ground, except they aren’t feet anymore but four large paws, talons digging gently into the floor. 

Everything feels different, so strange compared to how he feels as a human but also right in a way that he can never describe. He opens his eyes and the world is so much sharper and brighter than he ever imagines. 

Colors dance over his eyes even in the dark, and everything seems to glow as he looks around, stretching out his long neck and shaking his head. He can hear everything like it’s magnified, from the flicker of the candle he lit on his desk to the sound of Mother and Father sleeping a hall away. His elongated ears never miss a thing, which is good in case something comes close and he needs to change back.

He stretches out his wings, pointing them up towards the roof and unfurling them as they tremble slightly. It feels like he hasn’t used them in years, which is pretty close to the truth. His wings don’t manifest normally unless he specifically calls for them. 

Mother said he was small since he was still growing, and a part of Zuko resents that. He feels less like the powerful and fierce dragons form stories and more like a house pet, but he figures the more his other form grows the more this one will too. 

He pads around the room, taking a moment to just bask in the feeling, the exhilaration of having so much surrounding him. He thinks that maybe this is his true form, the thing he was always meant to be. It just feels right to stand here, a powerful and worthy beast, scales covering his skin, his body long and thing, powerful wings able to stretch out and carry his weight. 

He flaps his wings softly, feeling the way the air bends under them as he starts to hover over the ground. He doesn’t fly much, his room much too small to get up that high without knocking something over. But he tries his best anyways. The feeling of being in the air, of softly coasting through his room, the air rushing past him, it can’t be replicated. It’s freedom that always sits inside of him but he can so rarely access. 

Eventually his wings get a bit tired of the constant hovering and gliding so he lowers himself onto his bed, snuggling into the covers. He runs warm as a dragon his inner fire so much brighter and powerful. As a human he is never this connected to it, unable to reach it as though it only lives in this form. Experimentally, Zuko strokes the fire and lets out a tiny breath, a small plume of fire escaping from his snout. He closes his eyes in pleasure, wondering how proud his father would be if he saw that.

He isn’t sure how long he lays there, but eventually his eyes grow heavy, and he knows it’s time to change back. He wishes he could stay in this form until morning, longing hits him harder than it ever has, he feels it in his very bones, the desire to stay here forever in this moment, in this form, where everything feels right. 

But he knows he can’t, and so he stands up and jumps off the bed to the floor, flapping his wings one more time and just letting himself exist. It hurts almost, to change back and let this go, knowing that he won’t be able to fully transform for a very long time. His inner fire warms, almost like it’s comforting him. 

He takes one last look around his room before closing his eyes and reaching inside again. When in dragon form, it’s a lot harder to blur the lines. Probably because the energy sitting in his chest feels so much further away. 

When human, his other forms sits in his chest like a living thing. It rattles and it whimpers and it scrawls along his ribcage, purring in response to his emotions and pushing at the lines drawn between them. It cries and spits like a wild animal when Zuko pushes it down, fighting as if Zuko was trying to kill it. Sometimes he thinks he might be. Life would be so much easier if he did. But that thought makes him want to cry so he pushes it away. He wasn’t a baby anymore, he didn't need to cry at everything that made him upset. 

As a dragon, his other form doesn’t move. It sits deep inside of him and doesn’t move, almost like it’s sleeping. Where the dragon inside him was alive, fighting and slamming against his ribcage to get out, his human was more than willing to sit down and rest, to be tucked away and sleep. While his dragon fought to come out, his human fought to stay in. 

Either way, Zuko reached down, grabbing a hold of it even as it tried to slip out of his fingers. He pushed it up, towards the surface and just like before everything exploded in pain. 

His bones broke and shatter, condensing and twisting as they shrunk. His scales seemed to melt away back into normal skin, and his back twisted as his wings tucked themselves away, wilting and crinkling into nothing at all. 

Soon, Zuko was left as a human, kneeling on the ground with his head pressed against the floor. He opened his eyes and tried not to sigh as the world returned to normal his room dull and dark. He feels cold, struggling to stand on shaking legs as he stumbles back to his bed and curls himself in the blankets. They are still warm from his other form. 

Everything hurts, aches like he had just run a thousand miles without stopping. He reaches over to his bedside table with shaking hands and grabs the small container of balm his mother got him. He unscrews the lid and grabs some, slathering it over his pale arms and anything else that aches. It helps a bit, soothes the ache and makes him feel less like shaking apart. 

Despite the leftover pain he can’t help but smile as he snuggles deeper into his blanket. 

Inside his chest, his other form settles down too, and he feels warm in a way that he rarely does. He thinks he won’t have a problem with controlling it for a while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter, not going to lie. But I did really like exploring how a full transformation works and how it affects Zuko. The dragons in ATLA are a really strange combo of both Chinese and European dragons, and so I made Zuko a mix of both, even if I kept my descriptions of him kind of vague because I felt like him describing himself would be a bit of a bore. We will defiantly see more of what he looks like as a full dragon as time goes on. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please feel free to leave a comment letting me know what you think!! Next chapter we get some good ole sibling bonding )


	4. Five star banquet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the most important things in this series is exploring Zuko and Azula's relationship, because it's something I loved seeing in the show. Right now their at a weird place, where they're both young enough that they mostly get along, but Azula is spending more time with her Father and slowly is learning all of his toxic behaviors. Hope you guys enjoy!!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Zuko asked his sister, the two of them crouched in the hallway a couple feet from the kitchen door. 

“Don’t be a wimp Zuzu,” Azula said, grinning at him. She was only five years old, and yet Zuko would be the first to vouch for her scheming abilities. Shew as constantly pulling him into them, and as much as he didn’t like pulling pranks or causing trouble, he hated saying no to Azula even more. “It’ll be easy anyways.”

He didn’t doubt that part, especially since his job mostly revolved around sitting here doing nothing and then running. Azula decided that all the hard parts would go to her. She said that was the only way for her to harness her powers. Zuko didn’t think there was much power involved, it was just running out of a room faster than anyone else. 

From their vantage spot peaking around the corner, they watched as Sako, the kitchen assistant, walked out of the kitchen for her break. Meaning that it was just Io, the cook, in the kitchen while they prepper lightly for dinner while they cleaned up lunch. 

“Are you ready?” Azula asked, turning to look at him with a twinkle in her eyes. 

“Of course,” He replied, putting more bravo into words than he felt. Azula grinned happily at him before standing up and running towards the kitchen, opening the door and slipping inside. Zuko waited with bated breath until there was a loud crash and he could hear Io yelling bad words loudly. Seconds later Azula crashed out of the kitchen, running towards him with her arms filled with three containers of Dumplings. She shoved half of them into Zuko’s arms and the two of them took off down the halls as fast as they could. 

Zuko giggled slightly, grinning down at his sister as they ran around the corner, hearing Io crashing after them. They ducked behind a pillar, hidden from sight as the larger woman went crashing around. She had flour in her hair and her eyes were wide, mouth pulled into a snarl. She didn’t like them that much, Zuko can’t figure out why. 

Once Io was far enough away Azula and him snuck out from their spot, running the other way towards the outside courtyard, giggling the entire time. 

“Did you see the look on her face?” Azula asked, cackling loudly, the delight on her face was enough to make Zuko’s spirit sour. He felt some scales crawling at the back of his neck but ignored it, letting them grow over his beck where she couldn’t see. As long as they didn’t spread to his arms. 

“She looked so mad!” Zuko giggled back. “You did so good Zula.” 

Azula grinned proudly, blooming under the praise. Zuko knew she loved it, and would commonly make Zuko talk about how great she was in order to improve her ego. Zuko didn’t mind much, he did kind of love being an older brother, and even if she was kind of mean and cruel sometimes she was his sister and he loved making her happy. 

“Let’s eat my spoils,” Azula said aloofly, sitting down in front of the turtleduck pond and opening the containers. Zuko bit into one, the spice and flavors immediately coating his tongue as he chewed it, closing his eyes to appreciate it more. 

“It’s delicious,” Zuko said through a mouthful of food, grinning at Azula as she squealed. 

“That’s so gross!” She said, scrunching her face up and lightly smacking him. “You’re so gross Zuzu.” 

“What?” Zuko said mischievously, opening his mouth obnoxiously large so she could see the half-chewed food. “I’m just eating.” 

“You are the worst!” She protested smacking him again, but she was trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Am I now?” He asked, putting down his food and grinning at her. She widened her eyes, anticipating the attack but not moving fast enough to stop it as he leapt forwards, gently tackling her to the ground. She squealed and squirmed under him as he pinned her down, fingers reaching out to tickler her as she kicked and hit him, trying to get free from his grasp. She had always been stronger than him, always beating him in sparing even though he’d been working at it for a whole year before him.

Eventually, she managed to wiggle her way out, getting up and running away from him, and he was quick to join the chase, running after her around the garden. They smashed quite a few of Mother’s flowers and he felt slightly bad about it, but Azula was laughing and he felt lighter than he had in ages. 

He caught up with her after a little while, her little legs still a little too short to get away from him. He reached down and picked her up, twirling her around as she screamed, her hair blocking his eyes and getting into his mouth. 

“Am I still the worst?” He teased, holding her tight as she squirmed, trying to get free from his grasp. He just started spinning again, and she knew that getting free now would probably end with her being launched to the ground, so instead she just squealed, laughing slightly. 

“Even worse than before,” Azula declared, pinching him until he let her go and they both collapsed in a heap on the ground. They lay there in the garden for a minute, laughing and staring up at the sky. Zuko closed his eyes, sighing contently as scales crept along his arms. He snapped the connection instantly, opening his eyes and glancing at Azula, but thankfully she was looking the other way.

“We’re going to be covered in dirt,” Zuko told her matter of factly. Beside him, Azula cackled. 

“That’s half the fun Zuzu,” She told him, sitting up. “We’re allowed to be dirty, as long as no one sees us. Besides, if anyone points it out I’ll just burn them until they shut up.” 

“Let’s not get to that point,” Zuko said dryly, stomach rolling a bit at the idea. Mostly at the fact that Azula could already firebend, but he pushed that away. His sister was a prodigy and he was mostly happy for her. He sat up and got to his feet. “Let’s go finish our dumplings before we get so dirty we can’t anymore.” 

“You’re so lame,” Azula groaned, but she accepted when he reached down to help her up. When she was on her feet she squeezed his hand tightly, her grin sharpening. “Pick me up like that again and you’ll regret it.”

She released his hand and skipped away, Zuko rolling his eyes behind her. She had been doing this thing recently, where she would try to act threatening or intimidating. Sometimes it worked, she could actually be fairly cruel when she wanted to, and sometimes she sounded so much like Father that it made Zuko shiver. But she was also five years old, so it kind of felt like a very mean turtleduck was threatening him. 

But, as she was getting older and spending more time firebending with their father, the worst their relationship got. Half the time Zuko didn’t even know how to speak to Azula, and half their conversations ended up in either yelling or sharp words being tossed at each other. Every lesson with their father she seemed to retreat farther and farther into herself, less childhood innocence and more of a superiority complex. She seemed to know every button to push when it came to him, and she never listened to what Mother tried to tell her. 

But this was a good day. They were having a good time. So Zuko pushed the bad thoughts from his mind and sat down at the pond beside his sister, grabbing the slightly too cold dumplings and taking a bite. He refused to take this time for granted. He may still be young, but he had a feeling that their days like this were limited. 

He breaks off a piece of the dough and tosses it into the lake, smiling softly to himself as the turtleducks quickly swam towards them, fighting over the pieces. 

“Why are you so attached to those filthy creatures?” Azula said, her mouth turning up in disgust a little bit. She flicked her hand and sent a small wave of fire towards the water, the flames licking a few turtleducks and sending them fluttering away. Azula laughed at their flustered fluttering. Zuko feels a surge of anger curl in his chest and he smacks Azula’s hands down. 

“Don’t do that!” He scolds loudly, frowning at her. “That’s not fair to them.” 

“Why not?” Azula snorts, looking at him with distaste, clearly not used to having someone actively tell her not to firebend. 

“It’s not nice,” He says, stumbling a bit. He was really prepared for a ‘don’t burn innocent creatures’ talk with his little sister. “They haven’t done anything wrong and they can’t defend themselves and it’s just mean Zula. Mother told me that we shouldn’t hurt anything smaller or weaker than us because it’s cruel and wrong.” 

“That’s not what Father told me,” Azula sniffs, sounding bored. But Zuko can see the way she’s frowning, almost like she was thinking something over. “He said if something doesn’t want to get hurt, then they should be strong enough to fight back. Otherwise, it’s their fault.”

“They can’t help being weak,” Zuko stared at the small turtleducks, which had swum as far away from them as they could and was still paddling around frantically, quacking loudly. “And it’s our duty as the stronger people to be kind.”

“Why?” Azula asked, looking genuinely interested. 

Zuko didn’t have an answer. 

“It just is,” He said weakly, frowning and looking back over at the panicking animals. He feels vaguely uncomfortable, scales starting to form on the back of his neck and crawl down his arms. He slams into himself and cuts the connection, even as his skin heats up slightly like he’s being burned and a dull ache sets in. 

“That’s a stupid answer,” Azula huffs. “Let’s go play tag.” 

She stands up and starts to leave, turning a couple of feet away and impatiently tapping her foot, arms crossed in front of her. Zuko sighs, standing up to follow her. 

This was a good moment. He won’t let it slip away. 

_______________________________________

“Why do we have to be kind?” He asks his Mother than night as they sit in his room. She was just settling down for their nightly lesson, and her hands stuttered to a stop from where they were smoothing out her nightgown. 

“That’s quite a question,” She said carefully, eyes surveying him as if she could see the reasoning behind his question in his eyes. 

“Azula asked me and I didn’t know how to answer,” Zuko informed her, fingers curling around the blanket. 

“That girl has been spending too much time with your father,” Mother frowned, and Zuko wanted to defend his sister, but he didn’t want to argue with her. “Being kind is the hard decision darling, and that’s how we know it’s the right one.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Zuko frowned, staring at her to check and see if she was joking. Sometimes he didn’t get it when people made jokes. “Why would we do it if it’s hard?”

“Because sometimes the best things are the hardest,” Mother told him with a smile. “Destruction is easy my darling boy. It takes no effort to burn things, to hurt them to the point of no return. But being kind takes effort, constant anticipation and awareness. But in the end it the right thing to do because without kindness, the world will cease to exist. Here, let me show you an example.”

She stood up, walking over to his desk and grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. She leaned down and quickly scribbled something, before straightening and coming back to sit on the bed. 

“See this drawing?” She asked, showing him a small drawing of a bunch of stick figures. It was hastily done and not the best, but Zuko understood what it was supposed to be. 

“It’s a bunch of people,” He stated, perking up a bit when she nodded. 

“Very good, now watch closely,” She proceeded to light the slip of paper on fire, and Zuko watched with wide eyes as the paper curled and dissolved into ash. “You see? It took me less than five seconds to completely and utterly destroy the drawing. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Don’t burn paper?” He asked, still feeling a bit confused about how this all tied together. 

“That’s one way of looking at it,” She laughed, and he frowned a bit, unsure what was so funny. His hands curled as his talons started poking through, but he ignored it, hoping Mother didn’t notice. “The point I was trying to make is that if I went around burning every piece of paper just because I could, there would be nothing else left to write or draw on. And that’s not what we want correct?”

“I guess not,” Zuko shifted, still a bit confused. 

“Now apply that same logic to people. If we go around hurting and burning everyone or everything we encounter, eventually nothing else in the world will exist. It will just be us and nothing else. But if you’re kind, well it’ll help foster relationships and strengthen the world and community as a whole. People who use their power for evil instead of good are the basis for monsters, the villains in our story. Because they willingly chose to let people suffer instead of doing their duty to help.”

Zuko stared at his sheets. He sort of got it. It wasn’t the easiest idea to wrap his head around, and he thinks it’s one of those things he needs to be older to fully understand. 

“You should never hurt anyone who can’t protect themselves Zuko, because then you’re taking advantage of your position and power and using it over them. Just because you may have certain abilities that allow you to be more powerful, doesn’t mean you have to abuse it,” Mother patted his hands. “I trust you understand. You’ve always been so smart.”

He grins at her, fairly satisfied with the response and settling back into bed. 

“Now how about I read you Love Among Dragons again?” Mother asked, laughing when Zuko perked up. It was his favorite story to read, and he could honestly spend hours talking about the different aspects of the play. 

Mother gently patted back his hand, reaching for the playbook on his night table and starting to read. 

_______________________________________________

Azula and him had just finished their last class of the day and were walking back along the garden paths, Azula talking rapidly about the latest tips and praise her teachers had given her. Zuko was only half-listening, staring off into the distance as she talked.

“Pay attention to me Zuzu,” She whined, smacking his arm hard. 

“Ow!” He protested, frowning and glaring at her. “Don’t hit me.” 

“Why not?” She sniffed, turning her nose into the air. “You should’ve dodged it if you were strong enough.”

“Don’t be mean Azula,” Zuko told her, crossing his arms and resisting the urge to pull on his hair. Father had been on his case about that lately, telling him it wasn’t princelike and he should stop. That didn’t stop the impulse from coming. 

“Why not?” She asked. “You never answered me that yesterday.” 

“Oh!” Zuko said, forgetting his anger a little bit at the idea of sharing his news with his little sister. “I talked to Mother about that.” 

“Yeah?” Azula said, and he wasn’t a big fan of the tone of her voice, even if he wasn’t fully sure what it meant. “What did she say?” 

“She told me that if we hurt everyone below us, we’ll help destroy the world,” Zuko told her, vibrating a little at the idea that he could help share this lesson with Azula, who was always so much smarter than he was. “And only monsters do that.”

“That’s stupid,” She said with a huff, and Zuko deflates. “Father told me that we have no obligation to be kind when we’re clearly better and more advanced than anyone else. And he said monster are people who are weird and different, like the dragon in the stupid play Mother and you are always talking about. Dragons were monsters, and that’s why Grandfather ordered us to hunt them down. Don’t you remember that lesson Zuzu?”

Something inside Zuko twists, part of him twisting and roaring in protest. He feels the lines blur a bit, scales crawling across his neck and his fingers and teeth sharpening. Despite the anger he feels sparking at her words, her careless stupid words that make him want to yell and scream, he takes a breath and shoved everything down as quickly as he can. He pushed it until it’s too deep to come out and then he images locking it into a box, slamming the top shut and sitting on top of it so it won’t rise. 

Now he just feels empty. 

How dare Azula say that? Mother was always right, and it made sense! But Azula was smart too, even as young as she was. And Father was smart too, so why would anything they say be wrong either? The Fire Nation was superior anyways, and were they being overly nice to everyone else? Zuko thinks so. It isn’t mean what Grandfather and Father were planning and doing. They just wanted to help the other Nations out, to help show them the more civilized and better ways that they practiced. 

Zuko wasn’t sure what to believe. He doesn’t like it when he thinks like this, when his thoughts are being pulled back and forth and he isn’t sure who to trust or who to believe in. His hand reached up and he pulls on his hair. 

“Father told you to stop doing that,” Azula tells him, tilting her head to the side. “It makes you look stupid.” 

“Whatever,” Zuko growls, showing his hands down and ignoring his twitching fingers. “Let’s go play Hide and Seek.” 

“Okay!” Azula said, instantly smiling and running off. “You’re the seeker!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! And thanks to everyone who has left a comment, I love reading every single one :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm not sure what my update schedule is going to be like but hopefully soon!! Please feel free to leave any thoughts, concerns, or criticism in the comments :)


End file.
